


All Wrapped Up

by TheDarkSideofEnergon



Series: Unrelated Prompts [2]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: M/M, Marriage Proposal, Romance, mostly it's just a fluffy ending, slightly fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-08 03:34:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20828723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDarkSideofEnergon/pseuds/TheDarkSideofEnergon
Summary: Prowl slowed as he passed a jewelry store. He checked his internal chronometer. He’d still make it for Jazz’s last song. Probably. Even if he didn’t… Prowl ran the calculations through his tac center.Yeah. It would work.Prowl plans a somewhat impulsive proposal -- but Jazz has a surprise up his sleeve.





	All Wrapped Up

There was very little in this galaxy or the next that Prowl wanted more than to see his nice, soft berth at the moment. Seeing as there was a war brewing down in Kaon, however, that was unlikely to happen. He rubbed his optics as yet another report of disorderly rabble-rousing crossed his crowded desk that was crammed into the back corner of the station. Skimming through it, he signed his glyph and put it on the growing stack of reports that still needed to be taken to Filing. Standing up just enough to look over the tops of the stacks, he scanned the room for the intern who was supposed to be there, bringing him his brewed energon and taking away the precarious stacks. 

Ah. There he was. Sitting on a desk on the other side of the station, leaning over just a little to show off his bumper to the officer whose desk it was. The officer was having a hard time keeping his eyes up and not down, even below the bumper. Prowl vented.

“Sidewire!” He shouted, making the intern jump and slide off the desk, suitably frightened of the grumpy enforcer as he hurried over.

The officer he had been speaking to was not subtle in checking out Sidewire’s aft. Prowl fixed him with a glare until the officer had to look back at his own stacks of work. Prowl vented again. He’d have to make a note of that. Sidewire almost slid as he came to a stop in front of Prowl, helm down.

“Take these three stacks down to Filing. Don’t drop them.” Prowl handed the stacks in question to the intern, and sat down again as Sidewire mumbled an apology and hurried off toward the elevator. Prowl kept an eye on him until he disappeared into the elevator, at which point he heard the inevitable crash. His doorwing and optic twitched, and he looked up at the clock. Thirty breems to go before his shift ended. Prowl vented once more.

It wouldn’t hurt this one time, would it? His boss was constantly telling him to go home on time, rather than staying overtime to make sure his desk was clear each night. 

Then, rather unbidden, the image of his courtmate appeared in his processor. Jazz, singing his spark out up on the stage of the restaurant he worked at, slim and black and white, visor dimmed as he let the music “flow,” as he would put it. Prowl’s doorwings fluttered just a bit as he looked at the clock again.

Twenty-eight breems. If he went now, he could probably catch the tail end of Jazz’s performance.

_ Only _ if he left now. 

Putting it down to being the middle of the winter (in fact, tomorrow was the Solstice) and feeling somewhat indulgent, Prowl stood up and walked to the captain’s office.

The captain looked up when he entered.

“Prowl. What can I do for you?”

“I’m requesting to leave early this orn.” Prowl said, a little stiffly. “I will stay overtime tomorrow to make up for it.”

  
  
The captain simply stared at Prowl. “You, asking for time off?” He laughed sharply. “Never thought I’d see the orn. Yeah, you get out of here, and take the next two orns off for good measure, Prowl.”

  
  
Prowl opened his mouth to protest, but the captain held up a hand. “That’s an order. It’s the Solstice. I know you have a courtmate. Go spend some time with them.” He smiled, not unkindly.

Prowl snapped his mouth shut into a thin line and nodded, turning on his heel and controlling his doorwings as he strode out of the captain’s office and out the precinct door into the crisp mid-winter air. Thankfully, it wasn’t snowing at the moment.

The captain was right, of course. Jazz would like the time. Jazz understood Prowl’s work drive, Prowl knew, but Prowl also recognized that he was very lucky.

In fact… Prowl slowed as he passed a jewelry store. He checked his internal chronometer. He’d still make it for Jazz’s last song. Probably. Even if he didn’t… Prowl ran the calculations through his tac center.

Yeah. It would work.

Any and all plans to see his berth in the next two joors abandoned, Prowl turned into the shop, the shopkeeper looking up as he did.

“Good orn!” He called out, cheerfully. Prowl nodded, immediately heading for the case that held bonding gifts.

The shopkeeper followed him, chuckling. “Planning a Solstice proposal, are you?”

Prowl slowly nodded. “It was… unplanned before now.” He said, quietly. “He is patient with me and my logical nature. I recognize that I am boring to some, but he never makes me feel like that. He’s… spontaneous. Everything that I am not. Bonding only seems… logical.” Prowl’s lips twitched just a little, his optics growing soft. He didn’t quite know why he was spilling his spark to this stranger, but it felt right.

The shopkeeper smiled at him. “I can see that you love him very much. What’s his name?”

“Jazz.”

The shopkeeper’s lips twitched, but he simply nodded, coming to stand next to Prowl, looking over the case. “What’s his coloring?”

“We are colored the same.”

The shopkeeper chuckled again as he reached into the case and pulled out a pin in a vibrant red the same shade as Prowl’s chevron, one that would both blend and stand out from Jazz’s plating, designed in multiple intertwining loops, with tiny flecks of white at the tips where the loops ended. A mottled black and white gemstone was in the center. “I think this one might suit him, if you agree?”

Prowl looked it over, nodding as a smile crossed his face again. “Your intuition is correct.”

  
  
“Then let’s get this packaged up for you.” The shopkeeper wrote out the receipt, placing the pin in a white box and tying a ribbon around it while Prowl paid. Prowl handed the shopkeeper the receipt as the shopkeeper handed him the box, which Prowl put in his subspace. The shopkeeper smiled at him again.

“Good luck.” The shopkeeper said.

Prowl nodded. “I never asked your designation. I apologize…?”

The shopkeeper hesitated. “Beacon.” He finally said, shooing Prowl out the door as he followed close behind. “But you need to go win a mech’s spark.” As Prowl stepped out the door, Beacon flipped his sign to “closed”, shut his door, and waved to Prowl through the glass before disappearing into the darkness of the shop.

Prowl stiffly raised a hand in farewell before turning toward the restaurant. If he hurried, he should just make it.

He walked into the employees entrance fifteen breems later, the alleyway guard just waving to him. Everyone knew who Prowl was, Jazz having made it very clear after one performance by kissing Prowl good and hard, to the point that both had fallen on the floor.

There had been more than one or two approving whistles and comments of “get a room.”

Hearing the opening notes to what was typically Jazz’s final song of the night, Prowl crept up to the spot he knew would keep him hidden from the audience and Jazz, but give him a perfectly good view of the stage. Settling himself on a stool, he leaned forward a bit, optics caught on his courtmate. Jazz glittered under the stage lights, his plating buffed to a near-iridescent shine, his visor tinted just that shade of blue that said he was tired, but happy, overjoyed to be in front of an audience each orn. Prowl’s lips fell apart just a little as he listened to Jazz sing.

_ On the wings of ev'ry kiss _

_ Drift a melody so strange and sweet _

_ In this sentimental bliss you make _

_ My Paradise complete _

Jazz’s voice was crisp, clear, but deep, like the winter just outside the door. Prowl would never admit it to anyone, least of all Jazz, but it was Jazz’s voice that had truly captured him first, not his frame. Jazz’s speaking voice was very different from his singing voice, but Prowl loved it no less.

All too soon, the song ended and Prowl sat up straight as Jazz waved to his audience and came backstage. His optics landed on Prowl, his visor retracting, revealing the icy blue optics he hid behind them. “Prowler!”

  
  
“Jazz.” Prowl stood as Jazz ran over, nearly bowling Prowl over as Jazz wrapped his arms around Prowl’s neck and leaned his forehelm into Prowl’s chevron.

“I thought ya’d be at work for at least another joor.”

Prowl shook his helm. “I… wanted to come see you. I asked the captain if I could leave early, and he made me take the next two orns off.”

Jazz’s optics shone. “So yer all mine? For two whole orns?”

Prowl nodded, and Jazz leaned in to kiss him softly. “Then let’s head back t’ m’ place.” Jazz said against Prowl’s lips. Separating, Jazz grabbed Prowl’s hand, and with a wave to the stage manager, dragged him outside, reengaging his visor as he did so.

In the ten or so breems that Prowl had been inside, it had begun to snow, a light, fluffy snow that just stuck to the roads, covering everything in a glowing white. Jazz tilted his helm back and stuck out his glossa, catching the snowflakes on it, laughing as they melted.

Prowl’s spark spun just watching him. How was it possible that Jazz had picked him? And would he pick him again? And again? Prowl knew he’d do anything for Jazz. Even leave, if that’s what he wanted.

But oh, he hoped Jazz would agree to let him stay forever.

Finally bringing his helm upright again and grinning at Prowl, Jazz transformed and waited for Prowl to do the same before speeding off just under the speed limit toward his apartment. Prowl followed, pinging Jazz to warn him to slow down. Jazz obeyed, briefly, and Prowl just vented in amusement as Jazz’s speed crept up again. He wasn’t worried, since he knew from experience Jazz was a perfectly capable and safe driver in any weather, if a bit of a speed demon.

Arriving back at Jazz’s apartment, Jazz opened the door and pulled Prowl in after him, a weird little smile on his face. Prowl raised an optic ridge. “What are you doing, Jazz?”

“I ‘ave a surprise for ya.” Jazz said, pulling Prowl toward the berthroom. “I was gonna give it t’ ya tomorrow, but since yer here… no time like th’ moment, Prowler.”

“I also have a gift for you.” Prowl said. “But I would rather see yours first.”

Jazz opened his berthroom door, stepping off to the side before looking down at his pedes as he dug one toe into the floor, the little smile still on his face. “I hope ya like it.”

Prowl looked into the room. On Jazz’s berth was a box nearly the size of himself, and Prowl raised an optic ridge again.

“Is this the moment where you suggest bringing a third mecha in?”

Jazz snorted, breaking into giggles. “Oh, Primus no. Open it, Prowler.” He pulled his mirth back in, but still snorted occasionally as Prowl, still raising an optic ridge, stood on the berth to open the huge box.

Inside was a slightly smaller box, and Prowl’s tac center started spitting out ridiculous numbers and possibilities. Opening that one, Prowl found another box.

He stopped and looked at Jazz. “My tac center is suggesting that you have made this an unnecessarily difficult task. How many boxes did you use, Jazz?”

Jazz, sniggering, thought for a moment. “...Twenty?” He hedged.

Prowl just stared at him.

“...Twenty-five? An’ some bubble wrap?”

More staring.

“Thirty-six, wrapping paper, an’ th’ layer o’ bubble wrap.”

“Jazz.”

“Forty-two, three layers o’ wrapping paper, two layers o’ bubble wrap, an’ one duck-tape layer.”

Prowl vented heavily, shaking his helm at a smirking, not at all regretful Jazz. Clearly, seeing any sort of berth beyond having one under his feet was a quickly eroding pipe dream. Though Jazz’s presence had significantly reduced his stress and raised his energy levels, so Prowl supposed he didn’t mind too much. “I suppose I should get started, then.”

A little over a joor and a half later (the process being expedited by Prowl’s tac center helpfully giving him the best way to tackle the extra-challenge layers), and Jazz clearing away the refuse, Prowl was down to a box about the size of his palm.

“Last one, Prowler. Promise.” Jazz said, finally sitting down on the edge of the berth. Prowl sat next to him, and opened the box, pulling out a small box, white and metallic.

One much like the one that sat in his subspace right now.

Prowl opened it, spark caught in his throat as the blue pin the same color as Jazz’s visor, with a familiar mottled black-and-white stone in the center. Much more minimalistically designed, it was smooth and sharp where Jazz’s was flowing with the occasional hidden edge. Prowl traced the edge as Jazz took it from him, gently, and knelt in front of Prowl.

“I know yer just about bonded to yer job, but it’s killing m’ t’ let ya go out there each orn and not knowin’ if yer alright, or how yer doin’. So if ya could make room for m’ in there, I think I’d be the happiest mech in th’ world. I know ya don’t think yer th’ most romantic or good-lookin’ mech out there, Prowler, but yer perfect t’ m’. So… would ya bond with m’?”

Prowl’s optics started to fill with fluid as he reached into his subspace and pulled out the nearly identical box with the pin for Jazz. Jazz’s optics widened when he saw it, and he looked up to Prowl with hope and joy in his optics.

“You just managed to ask first, Jazz.”

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: "Person A gets a huge gift that takes up most of the room from Person B on Christmas. After opening it, they realize with horror that it’s the old tons-of-boxes-all-wrapped-around-a-single-tiny-gift trick. When A finally opens the last present, they find a small velvet box."
> 
> Is it obvious yet that I have a thing about romantic proposals? :p I suppose technically this could exist in the same universe as Stolen Moments, and I think I probably had that in the back of my mind, but it doesn’t have to be. :D I don’t know why “In A Sentimental Mood” wanted to be the song here, but it did.


End file.
